


The Huntress and the Vanguard

by DreamOfZen



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Alend, Artificial Intelligence, Battle, Clones, Combat, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ereloy, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Growing Up, Humor, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Machines, Post-Apocalypse, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Spoilers, Swearing, Technology, Tribal life, United States, chieftain, hunter gatherers, relationship, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14084955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamOfZen/pseuds/DreamOfZen
Summary: Outcast as an infant, Aloy grew up learning how to survive in a wilderness teeming with mechanical beasts. When her tribe’s rite of passage called the Proving is attacked, destiny leads her outside the Sacred Lands in search of revenge, secrets of the Old Ones and the history of their world. She doesn’t have time for love… or does she?*Accessible for all readers, whether you've played the videogame or not!*





	1. Stealth and Strategy

**Author's Note:**

> |  This is my first attempt at fan fiction; it will be largely canon, covering many familiar events and conversations, with additional and divergent content. I intend for it to be an accessible story for everyone, whether the reader is familiar with the videogame Horizon Zero Dawn or not. The scope of the work will briefly cover Aloy's youth and continue all the way up to the endgame events.  
>    
>  Thank you to everyone for leaving kudos, commenting or subscribing! All feedback is welcome, and seeing it absolutely makes my day. I'm feeling very good about this story so far, and I have several future scenes already written out with more planned that I'm really excited to share when the time comes! There is one battle scene I might just post as an excerpt because it's so much fun.   
> ---|---  
>   
>   

 

The red hair of a little girl disappeared into a patch of long ruby grass. A herd of horse-like machines grazed nearby, with glowing blue lights where their eyes should be. As she moved through the grass, she stumbled on a hidden rock and went sprawling, her heart rate skyrocketing.

One of the beasts perked its head up and nickered, its eyes changing from blue to yellow. Alert mode. The mechanical sound of pistons and the metallic clip-clop of hooves on the hard-packed earth announced the strider’s approach. The girl remained ensconced in the foliage, kneeling, waiting, watching the machine through the long strands of grass.

She turned her head ever so slightly to look at a large rock to her right, where her mentor Rost was standing in the shadows, his face barely visible. She caught his eye. He shook his head, holding a finger to his lips. _Don’t make a sound._

It stopped several feet away, scanning the area with the yellow light shining through rotating lenses on its head. As the head turned, she could hear small parts moving within. This was the closest she had ever been to a machine.

It was very much like an animal. Although it had no organic parts, it seemed to be built in mimicry of organic life. Bundles of synthetic cords took the place of muscle and sinew; solid metal took the place of bone; miniature bellows took the place of lungs. Additionally, the machines’ behavior was similar to a boar or a goat. Striders would mind their own business peacefully until encountering a human. When startled, striders and other herd machines would typically cry out in alarm and sprint away.

Aloy wondered from time to time about these unusual beasts, and where they really came from. Rost said the people of the Nora tribe believed in a being called All-Mother, who had created all people and the machines, too. Aloy wasn’t so sure. Humans and animals - boar, rabbits, goat, squirrels, owls - were made of similar bones, muscle, guts, fat and flesh - but machines were another thing entirely. They were made of metal, cords, oils, and other materials the Nora had no names for. No one had ever seen a machine reproduce, yet even when they were killed, new machines always seemed to appear to take their place.

As she crouched in the grass, gazing in wonder at the machine, its lenses turned from yellow to blue again, and it left to continue grazing with the rest of the herd.

The little red-haired girl took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had been tasked to simply observe the herd from afar while hidden in the grass, but her mistake had had immediate consequences. She would have to be more careful in the future.

As the strider left hearing range, she turned away from the herd and crept through the grass to the far side, leaving it to join Rost in the shadow of the rock. He was an outcast, as she was, although he had never told her why he was spurned from the Nora. Her surrogate father was built powerfully, with broad shoulders, and he wore a mix of dark leathers and animal skins. His hair was black, tinged with grey, and he braided his long beard into a single thick plait. Every day, he brushed ornamental blue paint onto his face in the same design, with streaks around the curve of his right brow and one on his left cheekbone. Aloy did not know what the markings meant, and he declined to explain them.

“You were lucky that only one machine was alerted to your presence. If it had spotted you upon approach, I would have intervened. You did well to remain calm and still.” Even though Aloy had failed, Rost’s kind blue eyes conveyed pride. He was not one to give empty compliments. She must have recovered well, then. As she grew up, she would come to realize that mistakes and hardship were inevitable as part of life; the true test of character was how you reacted to them.


	2. Remnant of the Past

 

With Rost, every day held a lesson. Although Aloy was only six years old, it was never too early to begin learning survival skills. She would need to be tough, independent, and resourceful to survive in the wilds as an outcast; Rost would not live forever. When the Nora Matriarchs had brought her to him, wrapped in swaddling clothes, he was grateful for the chance to raise her in the Nora ways. She had grown from a chubby-cheeked infant to a spry little thing with hair the color of oxidized iron, and eyes the color of lush grass. Young Aloy was an attentive listener, had a keen eye, and was continually aware of her surroundings.

Today, Rost took her closer to Mother’s Heart than ever before. They were gathering basic supplies from the land - ridgewood for their campfire, medicinal herbs, and scavenging parts from already-dead machines. Rost was examining a dead strider as Aloy roamed in search of medicinal Valley’s Blush, scattered in the open fields, and Hintergold with its red, cup-like blooms, usually found along streams. She skipped from plant to plant, picking the blooms and stowing them in her satchel. Picking them this way would allow the plants to recover and grow new blooms, instead of pulling up the whole plant. This was important to Rost; he taught her to respect the land, taking only what was needed.

A child’s laughter startled her as she was leaning down to pluck the red blooms from a stem of Valley’s Blush. She crouched instinctively, and looked around to find the source. She realized suddenly that she had wandered a good distance away from Rost, who was now on the far side of the field they had been combing for resources. She spotted a group of Nora children closeby, picking berries under the guidance of a woman. A boy a little younger than Aloy approached the woman, his cupped hands full of berries, his eyes full of anticipation; she praised his success as he dropped them into the basket she carried. He grinned happily and resumed his berry-picking.

Aloy could gather berries, too. Rost had shown her which ones were edible, which ones could be used in healing potions, and which ones were poisonous. It didn’t take her long to gather a decent number of berries from the bushes behind a large rock. She remained hidden from the others as she worked. She didn’t stop to think as she rose from the grass and approached the woman, her hands outspread with an offering of berries. As the woman turned and saw her, she uttered a surprised “Oh!” and backed away, ushering the Nora children away. “Let’s go back to Mother’s Heart, children. Come along, now. That is enough for today.”

Some of the children looked curious but saddened as they were herded back to the settlement, denied the opportunity to make a new friend. She looked from one to the next, hoping that one of them would reach out for her and welcome her into the group. Her hope sank as the gap between them widened.

A growl rose in her throat and tore its way out, erupting in a cry of rage. She turned and ran.

She felt tainted, alienated. Why was she outcast as infant? Why did the tribe cast people out at all? The world was rough and full of machines; survival was dependent upon working together.

She ground her teeth as she ran.

Aloy was so startled when the ground gave way that she didn’t have enough warning to scream as she fell. Cool, stagnant water soaked through her leather garments, filling the crevices in her ears, her mouth, her nose. She swept her hands down through the water, kicking, and rose to the surface of a small pool, coughing. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She was in some kind of cave, with long stalactites hanging from the ceiling. A large hole she had fallen through was too high above for her small arms to reach.

“Rost!” she called, cupping her hands, treading water. “Rost! Can you hear me? I’m stuck down here!”

She heard nothing. The girl would have to find another way out.

She swam over to a rock and pulled herself out of the pool. Her clothes were heavy with water, so she took a moment to wring them out.

The cave opened into a tunnel that split into two. As she explored, she found that the split tunnels eventually reconnected. She found herself in another kind of room in the cave, with a small shaft of light from a hole in the ceiling. One side of the cave wall was different; it was made of metal. A tall rectangle appeared to be cut into this wall, with a glowing blue circle halfway up. It dimly lit the small room in a cool blue glow. Was it a door? As she walked towards it in the thick darkness, she tripped on something, and her hands flung out instinctively to brace her fall. She stood to examine the floor. She had tripped over a long-dead body.

Her shrill scream reverberated throughout the cave and its tunnels, but there was no one alive nearby to hear her.

As much as the body frightened her - it was the first dead person she had ever encountered - she couldn’t take her eyes off it. The skull was dark, with shrunken remnants of flesh still clinging to the bones. A withered arm was stuck in the air. She walked around the body, examining it. Something was glowing on the side of its face. As she looked closer, she made out a three-dimensional triangle with a glowing blue line through it. It was resting between the deceased’s right ear and right eye, on the temple.

It was clearly some kind of device from the Old Ones - forbidden, she knew, by the Nora tribe. She had always wondered why the Nora were so uptight about relics of the past. If the Old Ones had made mistakes with the knowledge and technology they had achieved, shouldn’t the Nora study these relics and the lessons they held, to prevent repeating those mistakes?

She reached out and removed the relic gently with one hand, careful not to touch the shriveled skin.

The device was small, but had a strange weight to it. She turned it over in her tiny hands a couple times, but didn’t notice any other outstanding features. Impulsively, she reached up to hold it to her temple. Without warning, it leaped onto her skin where it clung with a strange, otherworldly sound, and began emitting a glowing purple light. She smacked the device off her face and scrambled backwards across the floor, suddenly breathing hard. It sat on a rock, in a faint shaft of light, its blue strip of light blinking. She had no idea what it was, but knew she couldn’t leave this place without finding out.

She crept across the floor towards it, and picked it up gingerly, examining it once again. This time, as she held the device to her temple, she allowed it to cling to her head. Out sprang a glowing web of violet triangles, surrounding her in a sphere. She stood up in wonder and looked around. The web moved with her. As she looked at the cave walls, bulging nodules spaced at regular intervals lit up in a brilliant violet color, glowing. She approached one. It was some kind of device, too, but covered in grime and sediment from years of dripping cave water. On the floor nearby, a small object was glowing, too. She approached it. Her triangular device made a noise - an almost imperceptible blip - as she looked directly at the object on the floor. She looked away, then back at it again. Another audible blip. It did not make this noise when she looked at the other glowing objects.

What was this triangle thing supposed to do, anyway? Alert its wearer to useful objects? Warn them about dangerous ones? Was it nothing but a light show? Was it broken? She smacked it, as though violence would force it to show her its secrets.

A glowing purple man blinked into existence in front of her and began speaking in confidential tones. “You think I want it this way? It's the best I can do! Wait - he's right behind you.” She spun around, but saw nothing. After a brief pause, the man spoke again. “Hi!” he said, waving, with the chipper voice adults use to address children. “Happy birthday, Isaac! Daddy sure does love his little big man.  Look, Daddy can't be there with you and Mom, but we can still have a party, right? Sure we can!” The glowing image of the man shimmered, then disappeared.

She looked at the glowing object on the ground again and gave the triangle on her head a gentle tap. The man appeared once more. “You think I want it this way? It's the best I can do! Wait - he's right behind you.” She played the message over, again and again, memorizing the man’s face, his voice, his words. Pretended to talk back to him as though he were her father. As an outcast, the only person she had ever spoken to so far in her childhood had been Rost. They lived just outside Nora settlements, but if they encountered a Nora Brave, they would be shunned and ignored. Speaking to an outcast was taboo.

Another voice echoed faintly in the cavern. Rost!

She abandoned the object on the floor and began calling his name, running through the cave toward the sound of his answering voice.

“Rost! _Rost!”_

In moments, she had reached the end of the cavern’s tunnels.  A rocky wall led up to a cavernous hole, where Rost’s silhouette stood, waiting. “Aloy! By the goddess. Are you alright?”

“Yes! I’m okay.”

“Hold on.” Rost pulled something from his pack, and threw it down the cavern hole. It was his metal grappling hook, attached to a length of rope.

Aloy grasped the rope and walked her feet up the slippery cave walls, using the rope to steady herself. It was slow going, and she slipped a couple times, but managed to hang on to the rope without falling and continue the climb. When she neared the top, Rost kept one hand on the rope and reached out with his other, pulling her to safety. He picked her up and hugged her tightly, walked a few paces away from the hole in the earth, and set her down, examining her face.

“What is that-?” he asked, reaching for the device on her temple she had nearly forgotten.

She scrambled away, covering it with a small hand.

“That is no plaything. We should have nothing to do with these old relics.” He reached for it again and she darted away, just out of reach. He scowled. Children could be so stubborn! “Fine, then. Let’s go home.” He turned and started walking towards their cabin in the woods that he had built himself, log by log.

If only he had known.

The device resting on the child’s temple would be the destruction of the Nora.

It would also be an instrument in the salvation of their world.


	3. No Plaything

 

 

Later that week, Rost and Aloy were walking through the Embrace when she spotted a young man scaling a rock wall in the distance. He used several footholds to climb up before flinging himself sideways to another one, swinging to land on a fallen log that crossed a ravine. He looked back, feeling eyes on him, and made eye contact with Aloy. He smiled.

“Who’s that?” she asked Rost as she examined the smiling boy. He was clad in supple leathers, edged with red machine cording. The sides of his head were shaved, with several dreadlocks tied back on top. His blue face paint identified him as a Nora, although the design was different from Rost’s. Each family had their own mark. Aloy wore none. She had found Rost’s stash of face paint once, and was in the process of copying his mark on her own face when he stopped her and hastily wiped it from her skin. He said the mark he wore was not fit for a little girl, and would say nothing more. It had crushed her. Was she not good enough? Had she failed him somehow?

“It doesn’t matter. He is from the tribe. We are outcasts,” Rost told her simply.

The voices of strangers echoed down the valley.

“Teb?” one shouted.

“Teb! Get back to where you belong.”

Crouched on the fallen tree, the boy turned and ran along the trunk towards the distant voices, but he slipped. As he fell, he reached out and caught one hand on the rocky wall face, but there were no other obvious handholds nearby. His other hand scrabbled against the rock, looking for the smallest crevice to work his fingers into, but found none. He looked around in a panic, but didn’t call out for help since a number of machines were grazing and patrolling the meadow below him.

“Aloy! Follow, quickly!” Rost shouted, taking off at a run towards the boy.

Her leatherbound shoes dusted the ground as she ran in a valiant effort to keep up with her mentor’s long strides. She paid attention to her lungs, willing them to be patient, taking measured breaths and releasing them in rhythm with her footfalls. Even at her young age, she had learned to find her stride, and could run at a set pace for a long time.

They crossed a small stream and ran down a worn path on the bank. As they crested a small rise, the boy came into view again on the rock. His grip failed, and he fell, tumbling against the rocky cliff to the ground thirty feet below. He landed with a muffled thump in the grass.

The startled whinny of three nearby striders echoed through the valley, their glowing blue headlights turning to yellow. They began to survey the area, trotting a few steps in different directions. Aloy gripped a tuft of grass tightly as she realized there were watchers in the area, too. Smaller than the horse-like striders, watchers were more like two-legged sentinels with tiny arms, a huge lens for a head, and an eerie call that rang out at the first sign of a threat. Watchers themselves did not seem very difficult to beat, judging by how easily Rost usually dispatched them, but they had to be taken out silently.

One watcher followed another in a wide oval around the area. Luckily, neither had seen the fallen boy yet. Teb started to writhe in silent pain on the ground; he was alive, at least!

Aloy started to take off towards him, but Rost stopped her with a heavy hand on her small shoulder.

“There’s nothing we can do. It’s only a matter of time before the machines find that boy and kick him to death... but if I shoot at them, it will cause a stampede, and the striders will trample him to death instead.”

Aloy activated the relic on her temple. As she looked from machine to machine, she could see glowing purple trails with arrows on them, one for each watcher. The striders had no trails. They had returned to random grazing and followed no paths.

“I can see the paths the watchers take!”

“Stop telling stories, Aloy. This is no time for make-believe!” Rost had seen her idly toying with the relic since the day she found it - tapping it, muttering to herself, swiping her hands through the air at invisible objects. She had told him the device showed her things, shining lights that only she could see. As far as he was concerned, it was nothing but a toy. Now he realized the depth of his mistake in allowing her to keep it.

Aloy was insistent. “I’m not lying! I can sneak through.”

“You will not!” he told her firmly.

Aloy considered for the briefest moment.

She launched herself forward. Rost reached out to grasp her, but his hand only caught the small bow on her back.

“Aloy!” he called out in alarm. It was no use. Not only had he failed to stop her, he had stripped her of her weapon as well.

She rolled down the hill and crouched into a patch of tall, red grass. Before moving forward, Aloy turned to look at her mentor. Her surrogate father gazed back at her helplessly, but saw that her eyes were full of fire. She was determined.

As she turned and peered out of the grass toward the boy, she reactivated the relic. She counted seven striders and two watchers. The watchers shared the same path in an elongated circle around the field. The three striders that had gone to alert mode had not spotted the boy, and had returned to grazing. He could not have fallen in a more inconvenient place; he was right in the middle of them all.

Aloy waited for both of the watchers to pass, going right to left, before sneaking forward into the next patch of tall grass. That patch took her between two striders, but she moved slowly to avoid making any noise. They took no notice.

On the far side, she waited again for both watchers to pass – left to right this time – before crossing the gap to a small patch of grass where Teb lay.

“Hey!” she whispered urgently as she reached him.

He was struggling to stand, and his breath came in painful gasps.

“Huh – how - ?!” he stammered, confused as he recovered his senses and focused his eyes on her face. The fall had knocked the wind out of him.

“Shhh! Stay down,” she whispered, keeping a watchful eye on the machines. He obeyed, kneeling in the grass beside her. After a moment, she waved him forward, motioning to follow her before the watchers made another pass.

They reached the first patch of grass and began wading through, between the striders. Teb was especially slow as he inched forward on all fours, clutching his ribs with one arm. The machines remained oblivious as they munched idly on the shorter grasses, their noses snuffling for the best greens. After several long minutes, they reached the far side of the grass patch. Young Aloy put a hand out silently to tell her companion to stop there. They waited quietly as the watchers came around from the left and passed to their right. She motioned him forward again, and they crossed the gap to the next patch of grass, where they waded through with less caution and a rush of relief. In a moment, they climbed the small rocky outcrop where Rost waited; he pulled them up to safety.

Aloy looked up at Rost with uncertainty. She had directly disobeyed him, but saved a boy’s life. Would he be angry with her?

He reached out, her bow in his hands. She took it gratefully.

Rost reached out again, pushing locks of her red hair aside to get a good look at the triangular device on her head.

“So… it is no plaything.”

A smile spread on Aloy’s lips. He believed her now! They both rose to leave.

“Wait… All-Mother bless that girl. Bless you both,” Teb interrupted. His eyes were tender with humble gratitude.

Rost frowned as the boy spoke.

Before Teb could speak again, three men dressed in Nora Brave leathers approached from the path by the stream - his companions who were calling for him earlier. One of them spoke.

“Boy!” he shouted in an accusing tone.

Teb glanced at the approaching men, then turned back to Rost and Aloy, stuttering. “She… she saved me. I… I just wanted –“

“Boy! Seal - your - lips!” the man spat as he reached Teb. “They are outcasts. Both of them. And she… she is _motherless!”_

Aloy took a staggering step backwards.

Rost shifted his weight to the side and put a hand out in front of Aloy as the man leaned in towards her. His expression reminded Aloy of a snarling scrapper - a hyena-like machine that roamed the land in groups of two or three, scavenging fuel from dead machines and attacking human travelers. She was shocked more than saddened by his sudden hostility.

An outburst from Teb cracked the tense air. “Father...!”

Aloy could feel the violence simmering in the expression the Nora brave gave his son. Their face paint matched; their personalities did not. She held her breath.

He turned and spoke to his companions. “Come now. Let’s go home.” The group of them took a few steps away. Teb looked over his shoulder at Rost and Aloy in apparent distress.

“And _you…_ ” his father said, backhanding Teb across the face and dragging him away by one arm.

Aloy’s aghast expression soured with fury.

As the group left earshot, Rost spoke. “That boy should not have spoken to us. It is against tribal law.”

She already knew. He had told her as much before. Did he have nothing else to say about what had just happened? How she had used the relic of the Old Ones to save the boy, the way Teb’s father insulted her, or how he had treated his son?

“We’ll go home now. Follow.” To Rost’s surprise, Aloy stomped off ahead of him.

“I know the way,” she said with venom as she marched home.


	4. Cruelty as a Catalyst

 

It pained Rost to see his little girl suffering. Aloy had been restless for days since the incident with the Nora boy. She tossed and turned in her sleep, despite a warm fire on the hearth of their cozy cabin in the woods, and was always tired in the morning. Her inquisitive and enthusiastic nature had been quashed into taciturn withdrawal. He had struggled at first as an outcast, unable to speak with his friends, his mentors, the Matriarchs. It was not an easy life, but he had known it was coming. Aloy was just a child. She didn’t even know what it was like to have friends. Rost was the only person she had ever known.

He didn’t know what to say to comfort her. He gave her an extra piece of rabbit for dinner, an extra compliment when she ground the correct herbs together into a healing draught. She looked at him in vacant recognition, noticing his efforts, but unable to rise from the weight of her misery. She remained an obedient follower of his teachings, but the spark in her little body was gone.

Despite her feelings, he continued taking her on occasional patrols throughout the Embrace, to watch for dangerous machines and dispatch any that threatened Nora life. One day as they were patrolling outside the largest Nora settlement, Mother’s Heart, they came across a woman and her daughter washing clothes and bedsheets in a stream. The women were aware of two scrappers pacing at the far side of the valley, glancing up occasionally to keep an eye on them across the stream, but didn’t see the watcher approaching from behind.

Rost and Aloy were hidden in some tall grass nearby. Aloy watched as Rost drew his bow and aimed for the watcher’s huge lens as it approached the oblivious women. He exhaled slowly, and released the nocked arrow the moment his lungs were empty and his body was very still. The arrow pierced the watcher’s lens and drove through the main processor in its head; the small machine collapsed in a heap of metal as the women stood and turned in alarm. They looked around frantically, but didn’t spot Rost or Aloy where they remained hidden in the grass. The mother quickly collected their laundry and hurried them away.

When they had gone, he turned to Aloy.

“Time to practice your salvaging skills,” he said. “Go and collect its heart.”

She obediently started towards the machine, leaning back against the steep hill as she let gravity do the work for her. She had almost reached the downed machine when a rock hit her in the face. She cried out, holding her face in her hands as a thin trickle of blood began to flow. She looked up in anger. A young blonde boy’s satisfied expression glared down at her from the hillside.

“Stay away, no-mother!” he yelled.

He threw another rock, but she was prepared this time, quick enough to catch it in one hand.

The boy frowned, then leaned down to pick up a third rock, despite the protestations of a dark-skinned girl who appeared beside him.

Aloy knew she had to act fast. She could simply dodge the next rock, hurl one straight at his head, or knock the one he held out of his hand.

Her pride would not allow her to do nothing. Dodging the next rock would not be enough; yet if she sought revenge, she would be no better than he was. Hatred was not the way. Holding the rock she caught, she aimed quickly and threw. It flew true to her aim, hitting the blonde boy in the hand. He dropped the rock he was holding and shook his hand out angrily. The girl beside him laughed, and grinned at Aloy. Her eyes conveyed approval, but it did not distract Aloy from her enflamed emotions.

They turned to leave.

As Aloy watched them go, she tried to focus on the pain of her fingernails as they pressed into her palms, but any attempt at distraction was useless. This boy was so spiteful that he had broken tribal law to deliver his declaration of hostility. All Nora were forbidden to speak to her. Why? She had been outcast as an infant, before she was even truly aware of herself and her surroundings, before her mind had developed enough for her to be able to take conscious action within the world.

Shunning an adult was still cruel, but Aloy could understand it - to a degree - since it was a punishment for something a person had willfully done. Rost’s story was still a mystery... but to banish a baby to the wilds? It was unthinkable, yet the Nora had done it to her. Rost simply said the Nora Matriarchs brought her to him as an infant, and claimed to know nothing more. She had carried a kind of resigned resentment with her for a long time, burying it when it became clear there were no easy answers - but the roots of uncertainty, oppression, and bitter anguish had become an invasive vine, choking the sunlight from every branching thought. Tears ran like watery tree sap from her eyes.

A familiar hand graced her shoulder. She turned to face Rost.

He had seen everything.

“You’re bleeding! Let me have a look.”

She pushed his hand away in anger.

“Here, hold still. I’ll get it,” he told her. His voice was gentle. He was only trying to help. When he reached out again, she held still.

She stared at the ground, seething, trying to catch her breath and sort her reeling thoughts as Rost tended to her minor wound.

“Why?” she asked in a hurt voice, raising her green eyes to look at him directly. “Why am I an outcast?”

“Aloy, this is not the time.”

“Who was my mother?”

“Aloy... I’ve told you before. That is not for us to know. You were just a newborn when the Matriarchs brought you to me. ”

“So the Matriarchs - they know?”

Rost grunted in frustration. “It’s not so simple! We are outcasts.” Matriarch Teersa had made an exception at the naming ceremony when Aloy was still an infant. She had appeared and spoken to Rost, despite the Nora taboo, and blessed the naming ceremony as Rost held the child aloft on the precipice and declared her name to All-Mother. There would be no further exceptions. Not for him, anyway. His path had been set; he was lucky to live in the Sacred Lands as an outcast and could expect nothing more.

Aloy was not satisfied. “So how do I make them tell me?”

“The Matriarchs? There is a way, perhaps.” He considered, starting to pace back and forth, brow furrowed. Did he want to set her on this path? She should not live her entire life as an outcast, and the tribe needed all the braves it could get. Mankind was stronger when they stood together. The machines were not going away anytime soon.

“So tell me!” Aloy insisted, impatient.

Rost’s eyebrows lifted into an expression of cautionary wisdom. “It would be dangerous. It would take years of training.” She had done well with every task he had given her, often exceeding expectations - but he wanted her to realize that her new goal would take an extended commitment. He wasn’t sure she was ready for it; she was still so young!

Her young voice was desperate, then miserable, as she replied. “How?! I don’t care!”

Rost stopped pacing and looked at her, hesitating.

“How do I do it? Tell me!” she demanded.

“The Proving -” Rost burst. “The tribe’s rite of passage, held every year. Those who pass become Braves, and the Matriarchs grant a boon to the winner.”

“A boon?”

“Yes. Whatever the winner wants.”

“Then I’ll do it,” she said.

Rost chuckled. Words came easy. Action, discipline, and commitment would require so much more.

“Whatever it takes,” Aloy promised, assuring him. “I’ll win the Proving.” Despite her youth, there was a mature glimmer of resolve in her face. She had been downtrodden for so long now that it warmed his heart to see her renewed vigor. He wished he had more answers for her, and knew that it must be difficult growing up with the stigma of an outcast and no reason for it. Now that she knew it was possible to find answers, her mind was made up. She had a mission. A purpose. Something to fight for. Something told Rost that his adopted daughter was special - and it was not just familial pride. Her will was a force to be reckoned with.

“I see,” Rost said with a resigned sigh. “We’d best get started, then. Your training will be hard. It will take years.”

“Yes! Please!” she said eagerly. “Where you go, I will follow.”


	5. The Faithful Outcast

 

“Good morning, Grata,” an adult Aloy said to the old woman kneeling on the rocky outcrop. “I brought you some breakfast.” She speared the dead rabbit on the old woman’s cooking skewer, and set the skewer on the racks on either side of the outdoor hearth. As usual, the old outcast said nothing to her and couldn’t be bothered to even look at her, continuing her prayers as though Aloy weren’t even there. Grata was always praying.

“Thank you, gracious All-Mother, for the gift of another day of life, and for delivering nourishment to an old woman who can no longer hunt for herself. I am grateful for your everlasting generosity.”

Aloy rolled her eyes. Sure, thank the nonexistent deity. Not the living, breathing being who did the actual hunting and personally made sure you had enough to eat. Aloy didn’t expect much, but just the tiniest bit of direct gratitude would have been nice. The other outcasts, few of them that there were, would at least acknowledge each other in passing. She had even been able to come to the aid of her fellow outcasts on several occasions - she once helped a girl track down her mentally ill brother; another time, she had pried a prized family weapon from the jaws of a scrapper and returned it to its owner. Each had been grateful enough to thank her in person, ignoring the foolish law that said even Nora outcasts were not supposed to talk to each other. Grata was truly an odd one. She was so devout in her beliefs that she would not utter a word directly to another person, outcast like herself or not.

A small part of Aloy was a little surprised that Rost spoke to her at all. He followed all other Nora laws to the letter, but he must have realized it wasn’t possible to raise a child without speaking to it at all. The child wouldn’t learn to speak for themselves, or be able to follow verbal instructions; simple hand motions would not be enough to properly teach the child how to survive. Now that she was an adult, Aloy wondered what the future held for their relationship. What would happen after the Proving, after all? Assuming she made it across the finish line, she would become a member of the tribe, a Nora brave - but Rost would still be an outcast. That was a problem.

She was jarred from her thoughts by another prayer from Grata, her withered arms outstretched on the woven rug.

“Dearest All-Mother, please keep my prayer beads safe on the overlook. I made the long climb last week to pray in awe of your beauty, but left my beads at the summit. I fear my tired legs no longer have the strength to make the climb again.”

Great. Another errand for Aloy. “You don’t need beads to pray, Grata.” This request was completely pointless. Everything else Grata had indirectly asked for was practical. Food, water, medicine, a new blanket. Aloy was not about to waste her time and energy retrieving some useless beads.

“Loving All-Mother, have I not been steady as the stones in my devotion to you? Have I not breathed your praise with every passing day? If it is your will to hold them in view of your beauty forevermore, then I shall accept it. But All-Mother’s tears... they were my birth mother’s beads.” Her frail voice trembled. “It was all that I had left of her. My old heart aches for them. Please... lend me the strength to let go of my anger for my failing memory; at times, I feel so foolish in my forgetfulness, but I cannot help it. This old mind cannot remember as it should.”

Aloy was quiet for a moment. It must be devastating to realize you are losing your memory, but have no control over it. Grata must feel so helpless. If this is what aging was like, Aloy wanted no part of it. She tried to imagine not only losing her strength and ability to hunt and survive on her own, but also the sharpness of her mind. Depressing. At least Grata could still remember her mother. Aloy swallowed hard as the familiar, bitter thoughts clouded her mind; she didn’t even know what it was like to have a mother, let alone what it felt like to have lost one.

When Aloy spoke, her voice was soft, and full of respect. “I... understand, Grata. I will look for them.”

The old woman stretched out deeply on the woven rug and continued to pray as Aloy walked out of earshot.

“Understanding All-Mother, I am forever grateful for your grace and compassion. May the warmth of your heart-”

Aloy cleared her mind and took a few slow, deep breaths as she walked. Might as well get this over with so she could go on with the rest of her day. She turned in the direction of the rise that led to the overlook Grata mentioned, and took off at a measured pace, her hardened leather shoes leaving wisps of dust in her wake as she ran. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, setting a steady rhythm. Rost had taken her all over the Embrace, and she could run at this measured pace for a long, long time. Occasionally, she tapped her focus to make sure she wasn’t running into a pack of scrappers. There weren’t many machines in the Embrace that would turn and fight; most herd machines would run when startled. The watchers and scrappers were the main ones she wanted to avoid. They were easy enough to take down, but fighting took time and energy which she didn’t feel like wasting right now. 

As she passed under the shade of a tall maple tree and leapt over a small boulder in her path, her mind began to wander. There wasn’t much time left before the Proving. Although she felt prepared, her stomach was twisted with anxiety. If she came in first place as she had trained to do, what answers would the Matriarchs have for her? Had her mother done something so horrible that the tribe had banished her along with her child? Was Aloy a cursed child born as a result of rape? Did her mother simply not want to be bothered raising a child? Was she alive? Dead? And then there was the Rost problem. How could they be expected to shun each other after he raised her as his own in the unforgiving wilderness?

She eased back on her pace as the ground began to rise in a gentle slope, but maintained her momentum. The sky was bright and clear today; the sun had burned off the morning mist and was beginning to dry out the dew. Her shoes and ankles were wet with it as she ran through the grass. It was going to be a hot day in Mother’s Embrace. Sweat began to trail down her spine as the slope became steeper, and her pace slowed to a thigh-burning jog.

Luckily, Grata’s prayer beads were easy to find once she reached the overlook. Aloy placed them in one of the pouches on her leather belt, and took a moment to appreciate the scenery from a seat on the cliff’s edge. The Embrace was spread out below her dangling feet. The landscape was sprinkled with leafy trees as well as pines, and patches of ruby grass waved serenely in the breeze. A mountain loomed in the distance, covered in snow, with the impossibly large tentacles of a dead machine sprawling in arcs across the sky. One day, she would climb that mountain and see this giant machine for herself. What wonders the Old Ones had created! She could not imagine a machine of that size coming to life. It was terrifying, but fascinating. Aloy couldn’t understand why the Nora were so fearful of the ruins of the metal world. Sure, there were things inside that they wouldn’t understand, but wasn’t anyone interested in learning about the true history of their world?

She sat for longer than she had intended, gazing in wonder at the natural beauty of the world, lost in idle thought. When she drew her legs up and stood to leave, she massaged her rear end; her buttocks had fallen asleep. The tingling sensation quickly abated, and she considered for the briefest moment whether to take the zipline or use her grappling hook and rappel down. It wasn’t a terribly difficult decision. The speed and rush of the ziplines were always fun, but Aloy took a bold approach to rappelling that gave her a rush like no other.

Grappling hook in hand, she pounded the dirt and made a flying leap between the V of the rappel anchor, her heartbeat energized as gravity took over. The daredevil twisted her upper body as she fell, swinging the grappling hook up and over the anchor; it caught hold and she hung on tight for the initial jolt as the rope took on her weight. The grappling hook held, and she slid smoothly down the rope, grasping it between her feet to control the speed. She landed lightly - a graceful end to her audacious descent - and moments later, she was back to her long distance running pace, heading back to Grata’s hut.


	6. A Future in the Tribe

_Photomode shot by Bradley Buradori_

 

Her errand complete, she made her way to the cabin Rost had built for them on a hillside in the Sacred Lands, protected by a gate and fence of sharpened tree trunks at the front so that machines could not disturb them. It was protected in the rear by a forest so dense it was impassable to all but humans and small animals, by a rocky cliff to the right that jutted up far overhead, and on the left by an extension of the wooden fence.

Rost was already there, in the midst of skinning a fresh boar kill, his knife and hands glistening with its blood. Aloy craned her neck for a better view as she approached.

“That is one plump boar,” she said. The animal’s belly, cheeks, and neck were all thick with fat.

“He seemed to have his pick of the grubs and acorns near the weeping willow on the forest’s edge. All the other boars in the area were much smaller. I think he was big to begin with, and used his size to bully others of his kind.”

“He got what he deserved, then,” Aloy replied, shrugging. “I bet he’s going to taste delicious!”

Rost sighed. He had taught her to respect all life - man, animal, machine. Sometimes the things that came out of her mouth crossed a line for him.

“I respect the boar’s life,” she said, recognizing his disdain. “Why can’t I appreciate its death, too? Can we not be grateful for the rich flavor it brings to our table as well as the nourishment?”

Rost considered for a moment. “Aloy... It seems easy for you to dismiss the animal’s life, and the pain of its death, when you’re talking about food.”

It was true. Although Aloy shared Rost’s beliefs that all life should be respected, it was easy to anticipate a hearty meal for its enjoyment and forget the sacrifice of life that was necessary for their survival.

“You’re right. I will remember that and try to be more spiritually grateful,” she said in earnest. “But look at him...” she grasped a thick boar leg that Rost hadn’t reached yet in the skinning process, and wiggled it gently. “This is going to be the richest meal we’ve had in ages. The boar we usually kill are nowhere near this size of this one. Thank you for providing for us.”

Rost nodded in acknowledgement as she left the hunting table, heading inside the cabin. She paused in the doorway. “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

“I have. There is some bread and dried fish inside,” Rost told her.

Aloy brought her meal outside and sat on the porch, legs dangling over the side as she ate, watching Rost skin and gut the boar. He was methodical in his movements in a decided effort to avoid waste wherever possible. He would use as much of the animal’s body as possible.

Aloy swallowed a mouthful of fish. “The Proving... it’s so close now,” she mused. 

Rost glanced up as he skinned a leg of the boar. “It is. How do you feel?”

She took a small bite of bread and pondered the question as she chewed. After swallowing, she replied. “Excited, but also anxious. This... is my only chance to discover the truth about my past. Who my mother was, where she is now, why I was outcast... questions that have driven me over the years. It all comes to an end soon, whether I finish first in the Proving or not.” 

Rost set the sharp hunting knife down and spread his palms on the table, leaning forward on them to emphasize his words. “You forget the point of the Proving. In completing the trial, you will become a Nora Brave. For other Nora, it is a rite of passage to adulthood. For you, it is a means of casting off your exile and becoming a fully-fledged member of the tribe.” Rost paused, considering how to phrase his thoughts. “The Proving may bring an end to the uncertainty about your past, but it will also be a new beginning. You know this,” he finished quickly, picking up the knife once again and continuing to scrape the boar skin from its flesh. 

“I do,” she admitted. Her focus all these years had been on getting answers to her questions, not joining the tribe. Becoming a Nora Brave was not something she had spent much time thinking about, and Rost knew it. He seemed to think she would benefit greatly from joining the tribe, but she had survived the wilds on her own with his help, and now she had achieved capable independence. She didn’t need the Nora. Why would she want to join with a group of people who had intentionally cast her out, for unknown reasons, when she was just an infant? It was the cruelest of sentences in a world fraught with mechanical monsters hellbent on their destruction.

“To be honest, I still don’t know what joining the tribe will mean for me. What it will mean for you. I have lived my entire life with you, learning how to survive on my own. What can the tribe offer me?” she asked.

Rost knew then that he had one more lesson to teach her. She would not be ready for the Proving until it was learned. With one last slice of the knife, the boar skin came free from the flesh.

“Unfettered trading, companionship, support. But what can you offer to the tribe?” he asked her.

Aloy laughed. She wasn’t about to do any big favors for the Nora. The burn of her exile would likely never leave her hardened bones. She didn’t have a polite answer for Rost, so she said nothing. But then she began to wonder in earnest what the Nora would expect from her, and the good humor drained from her face. All the Nora contributed somehow to the benefit of the tribe. Was there a place for her? Would she want to take it?

She looked down at the hunk of bread in her hand, her appetite suddenly gone. She stood and took it inside, wrapped it in a waxed cheesecloth for safekeeping, and strode quietly out the door.

“I’m going for a walk,” she told Rost. 

“Please meet me at the campfire at nightfall,” he requested. “And be prepared for battle.” She nodded in acknowledgement.

He watched her go, her long red hair shining in the bright sunlight, the fringe of her leather garments swaying lightly in the breeze.

Eyebrows scrunched together in consternation, she walked downhill from their cabin and kept going in a line across the foothills of the mountains that bordered Nora territory. There were few machines here, mostly watchers and striders, so she didn’t have to worry about stumbling into one. They were pretty hard to run into by accident. She looked at the watchers tromping to and fro quite noisily, making inquisitive sounds as they scanned their area for intrusions. A pair of nearby striders, on the other hand, spent most of their time facedown in the grass, munching on it for fuel. She sat down in the tall grass on the edge of the forest to watch them graze, circled by the watchers. The sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly, but Aloy was in the cool shade, breathing in the fresh air of a gentle breeze. 

She found peace in the wilds. Harsh as they could be, there was a fierce kind of beauty to it all - machines and animals alike acting on instinct. It was nice to know what to expect, without the scheming and posturing of mankind. Wildlife and machines both generally wanted to be left alone, and would leave you alone, too, unless provoked. Squirrel, fox, strider, grazer - they would all mind their own business, and run away if startled. Sometimes bears would wander into settlements looking for food, but they usually didn’t try to hurt anybody to get to it. Stormbirds, stalkers, and sawtooths, however, were a different matter altogether. They would try to kill you on sight. But they were all the same in that way. Once you knew enough about the different machines, you could easily avoid most of them.

After some time, she got up and continued meandering across the countryside until she reached the outskirts of Mother’s Heart. Many Nora were outside the walls this time of the day, fetching firewood, hunting, or doing their laundry in the stream. She paused a moment to survey the settlement from the outside, as always - their cabins were hewn from wood, tied together with blue machine cording. Their designs were far from complex, but the Nora had few tools at their disposal. Building anything that size required a good deal of collaboration. She had seen several Nora working together once over a span of several days as they replaced the roof on one of the houses; it was a laborious process.

Some hushed whispers reached her ears; two young men around her age were talking about her from the stream where they were collecting water.

“Just stay quiet, and she’ll get bored and walk away...” one of them said, a short boy with brown hair and a disdainful expression. His companion, who had a taller build and long blonde hair, shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“Excuse me? I can hear you,” Aloy said, turning to face them directly.

The brown-haired boy was incensed, and spoke again with arrogant articulation. “Ugh. I don’t talk to dirty outcasts,” he said, turning away from her. He spoke to his blonde friend. “I’m going to tell my father she’s breaking the rules.”

“Go ahead and tattle to your daddy,” she spat. “Are you five years old? Grow up and learn to think for yourself.” She strode away, fuming.

Aloy hadn’t decided which made her angrier - the ridiculous Nora laws themselves, or the way they were followed without question. As though none of them even considered the idea that some laws might be wrong, or hurtful. She had heard many things like this as she passed through Nora settlements or tried in vain to speak to members of the tribe, but the sting of the words remained fresh. “I will not speak to those cast out by the Matriarchs.” “I’m not going to break the law to talk to a filthy outcast.” “All-Mother, make her go away.” “All-Mother protect me. I think she’s trying to have a conversation.” 

Few Nora would deign to speak with her at all; those who did were either interested in trading, or in dire need of help with no other options. Most of them were so rooted in Nora tradition that they thought nothing of their cruel words. Outcasts had always been treated this way. Would they suddenly sing a different tune once she was part of the tribe? Aloy had her doubts.

If their disdain turned to kindness when she became one of them, it would only make their laws seem even more foolish, and the Nora all the more petty for following them. The change would make Aloy uncomfortable. People should not be treated based on their circumstances, especially ones that were out of their control. On the other hand, if they continued to treat her like dirt, why would she want to be around them at all? It was beginning to feel like her history with the tribe would be painfully difficult to overcome. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

She wandered aimlessly for the rest of the afternoon, leaving the unwelcome company of the Nora in favor of the wild Embrace. As the sun began to slide deeper down the horizon, she climbed a derelict building in the ruins of the old ones to watch the sunset. The cement had spent countless years crumbling from the metal rebar, but there was enough structure left for her to scale it safely. When she reached the top, she pulled herself up and swung her legs over the side.

The sun was a radiant orange, bathed in shades of cherry and plum. The colors burned through the broken windows of another tall ruin that rose from the semi-darkness to the left. It was a brilliant display of warm colors and light that faded quickly to black. She sat in the darkness for a few minutes, letting her eyes adjust as the wavering chorus of insects filled the night air. It was time to go meet Rost.


	7. One More Lesson

_Sawtooth photomode shot by Bradley Buradori_

 

The whoosh of air and zip of the rope as she rappelled down into the darkness brought her back to the present. She had thought Rost’s lessons were over, but based on their conversation that afternoon, he still wanted to teach her something before the trial of the Proving. What he had in store she could not guess as she jogged through the forest, ducking to avoid low-hanging tree limbs and vines.

The campfire at their meeting place was already lit. Its glow was visible as she exited the tree line and moved across the meadow to the foothills of the mountains. Rost was there waiting for her, seated on a wooden bench next to the fire.

“How was your walk?”

“It was... peaceful, mostly.” She thought of the insults she had endured from the Nora on the edge of Mother’s Heart. “Enlightening,” she added with a bit of sarcasm.

“I hope it prepared you for the task on hand this evening. You will find out what it is soon enough.” He stood. “Are you ready?”

Aloy raised her chin slightly in an affectation of confidence, suppressing the swirl of emotions about her future. “Yes.”

“Let’s go,” her mentor said, leaving the campfire and heading for the wooden gate of the Embrace nearby. Two Nora Braves stood guard; Rost and Aloy said nothing to them, but Rost gave each of them a brief nod. The guards strode forward and opened the tall gate with an air of relief and appreciation.

One of the guards then spoke as the two of them walked through. He was near Rost’s age, with light brown hair, his lean face painted with a solid blue triangle inside the outline of another. He looked at the other guard as he spoke, but Aloy knew the words were for her and Rost. “It came again last night. Brought some scrapper friends with it. Wiped out the entire lodge.” He shook his head sadly, eyes lowered. “The death toll now stands at twelve. Countless injuries. The destruction of many homes.”

Aloy looked from the guard to Rost. He said nothing, but the look he gave her was full of duty and compassion. The melancholy creak of wood announced the closure of the gate behind them.

Outside the gate, Rost followed the path worn in the earth, the grass long pounded away by countless footfalls. They crested a short rise, and Aloy gasped at the sight before her. The path extended down the hill they stood on, with an impassable, high ridge to the left. Several huts were spaced on either side of the path at increments, but all were in shambles. The nearest one had been crushed on one side and blackened all over with ash, its thick wooden beams splintered and caved in. It must have caught fire.

“Why are the only ones out here tonight? Can’t the braves handle this machine?” she asked.

“I didn’t bring you out here to ask questions,” he said gravely. He paused, deep in thought, then turned to face her directly. “You know that I would never ask you to do something dangerous without confidence that you would succeed, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she responded without hesitation.

Rost’d blue eyes glittered in the moonlight as his gaze conveyed his expectation. “Your task tonight is to bring down a sawtooth. Alone.”

The first emotion to fill her face was surprise, which melted into a small smile. She felt strong and confident. Eager. In all her years of training and growth, she had only ever faced watchers, striders, grazers, and scrappers. Most of them were herd machines that would run on sight. Only the watchers and scrappers would turn and fight.

She had heard of the sawtooths from Rost, but had never seen one. Neither of them had ventured far from the Embrace, and larger machines like the sawtooth usually did not bother big settlements. On the rare occasion that the Nora got tangled up with the likes of a Sawtooth, they would run if possible, or work together to bring it down. If Rost knew she could handle one alone, then she must be one of the best hunters the Embrace had ever seen. “I’m ready,” she told him.

“Come, then. Let’s find the beast.” Rost led the way, walking down the path toward the ruined huts at a slow pace, scanning to the left and the right, listening hard. Aloy followed, her senses on high alert.

They passed the first hut, then the second. There was no sight or sound of the machine. When they reached the end of the huts, Rost dropped into a crouch and led Aloy through the tall grass on one side of the path. They walked for some time like this until another hut came into view on a small hill. It, too, had been destroyed, but there was still no sign of any machines in the area at the moment.

They continued along, staying low and hidden in the tall grass to the left of the path they followed, the ridge to their left. Soon they came upon a large boulder to the right of the path; beyond that was a circular clearing. As they approached the boulder, the unmistakable sound of rhythmic pistons and heavy metallic footfalls reached their ears. Rost looked at Aloy, then motioned toward the boulder; she nodded in understanding. Together, they quickly crossed the wide-open space of the pathway, and crouched in the grass by the boulder to the right of the path. The clearing was easily visible from here.

Silence. The machine must be pausing on its patrol.

Aloy’s heartbeat began to quicken with anticipation.

_K-pssh, k-pssh, k-pssh._ The sounds began again, getting further away with every step.

Movement to the right caught her eye. An enormous, cat-like machine was walking from right to left, surveying the area. It kept going until it reached the ridge, then paused, scanning the area with its blue lens eyes. It was indeed a sawtooth. The machine turned and began walking in a half-circle, still from right to left, then seemingly headed straight for Rost and Aloy.

She had a moment of panic, the feeling rising in her throat like an enormous fist. This thing was big. Far bigger than anything she had ever encountered. It was four to five times the size of a scrapper, and she was supposed to fight it alone? How?

It was a good thing Rost was crouching in front of her, so that she saw his hand coming when he reached out to grip her upper arm in solidarity, or else she would have died of fright from his touch. His brow was low, his eyes alight with something. Resolve? Expectation? A mix?

The sawtooth paused.

Aloy dared not breathe. Every instinct was telling her to run, but she stayed there, crouching next to Rost, her heart now frozen in her chest, as though to hide that sound from the machine, too.

Aloy could have tossed a rock and hit it. The beast was standing on the left side of the path, some twenty feet away from them, scanning. Blue light illuminated the tips of the tall grass, moving slowly. The chill of fear shot up Aloy’s spine and branched out through her arms, bursting into goosebumps. Leg pistons fired as the sawtooth shifted to one side to perform another scan. She could hear parts inside turning and clicking as it focused its gaze.

The machine gave a low chuffing sound as though satisfied with its scans, and strode off to the right. Aloy took a deep breath as her heart came back to life, and refocused her thoughts. _Sure, it’s big and I’ve never faced one before, but Rost wouldn’t ask me to do this if he knew that I couldn’t. He said so himself._

Rost spoke to her when the sawtooth was out of hearing range. “Aloy - you can do this, but remember, I will not come to your aid. Use any weapon or method you choose. Watch and analyze as always, then plan your attack. Act with wisdom; strike with power.” He leaned forward to deliver a Nora blessing. “May the earth be light beneath your feet, and the wind behind your bow!” The depth of emotion beneath his composed expression stayed with Aloy long after he crept away and disappeared into the trees and shrubs.

_Okay, Aloy, focus._ The machine was patrolling the clearing in a wide circle which included a small section of the path, stopping at two different points to perform scans. It would be stupid to take this thing on face-to-face; although she could take out a watcher with a single accurate thrust of her spear, this monster was going to require a little more finesse. Okay, a lot.

She waited for the sawtooth to complete another pass. As it finished scanning nearby and walked past her, she reached up and activated the focus on her temple. The old relic quickly analyzed the machine and highlighted two parts on its body as weak spots. One was some kind of module situated across the machine’s rear end; the other was further up on its back. Those would be difficult to hit with anything other than a bow and arrow, which wouldn’t be particularly stealthy. Aloy had no idea how many hits it would take to fully destroy each module, or how much damage it could withstand before powering down permanently. She didn’t intend to let loose with projectiles only to piss it off and reveal her position.

Without knowing how much damage the sawtooth could take or what kind of weapons would be the most effective against it, the next best option would be to trap or disable it, then attack the weak spots. She examined the landscape, evaluating it for the traps at her disposal. Based on the beast’s predictable patrol pattern, it would be best to start with tripwires crossing its path - electric ones that would disable the machine until the charge was spent. She would be free to pummel it with arrows until it regained awareness as the shock wore off. Rinse and repeat.

For most machines the Nora outcast had come across so far, the shock effect from her tripwires lasted about thirty seconds. The time could be quite different for a larger machine, she realized. Once the wires were set, it would be best to attack from cover and change positions when she could. If it spotted her or got too close, she would be in trouble. The only close range weapon she had was her spear, which would be poorly suited for a machine of this size. She picked out a couple hiding spots along the edge of the clearing. The scenario played out in her head several times until she felt confident in her plan of attack.

She reached over her shoulder and took the tripwire launcher from her pack, waiting for the sawtooth to finish scanning the area near her and continue onwards. It strode away steadily until it was once again out of earshot.

Aloy took a deep breath to steel herself, then moved. She fired the tripcaster at the ground, anchoring one metallic rod crackling with electricity, then walked about twenty paces as the wire unspooled through the weapon, and fired another. The second shot completed the circuit. The tripwire was directly across the sawtooth’s path for the start of its next pass. She crept along through the tall grass and set down a small proximity bomb, activated it, and continued onwards to follow her enemy at a distance. She set up two more electric tripwires, and two more bombs.

The sawtooth was almost back to its scanning spot near the boulder. After the scan, it would continue on and strike the first tripwire. Aloy made her way through the tall grass across the center of the clearing, then hid behind some low bushes on the far side. The ground sloped down slightly to the boulder. If this went according to plan, she should be in perfect position to pummel the modules her focus had selected on the machine.

She drew an arrow from her quiver as she knelt behind the bushes, waiting. The cool, calm evening air was about to erupt. The moon was bright tonight, illuminating the long waves of grass across the clearing.

Eerie blue light swept through the darkness below her as the sawtooth began to scan. It found nothing and resumed its patrol after a few moments, treading noisily down the path. Towards the first tripwire. Aloy tapped her focus to highlight the modules on its back again in the darkness; they glowed bright yellow.

Aloy nocked the arrow.

A front leg struck the tripwire.

Electricity coursed through the machine. Streaks of blue light flashed around its body as the charge overwhelmed its systems. It stood there, immobilized.

She pulled her bow to full draw, aimed and loosed the arrow towards the yellow glow. The projectile knocked off some plating from the module. Without hesitating, she pulled another arrow from her quiver, nocked it, drew, aimed, and struck again. And again. And again. She wondered briefly how other Nora managed to hunt in such darkness without a focus.

After the fourth arrow, the tripwire’s charge was spent. The sawtooth staggered back to life, shaking itself. Its blue lens switched abruptly to yellow, sweeping the landscape around it for the source of the projectiles. A low warning growl cut through the soft chorus of insects. Finding nothing, it chose a direction and stalked low to the ground in a straight path, looking. It entered the tall grass in the center of the clearing. She knelt as low as possible to the ground behind the thick bushes, willing her heart to slow down.

The growling machine stopped twenty feet in front her and stopped, searching left, searching right. To her relief, it turned to resume its rounds.

_Alright, big boy, time for round two._ She made a move for a clump of trees to her right and knelt there to wait, hoping the trees and the darkness would keep her hidden. Aloy nocked another arrow.

Its leg struck the second tripwire.

Aloy took another shot at the module between its shoulder blades as her foe stood immobilized by the electricity. She was rewarded with a direct strike, and a brief shock of yellow sparks. That component was done for. She drew and took aim at the other weak spot lower on its back, getting in two shots before the tripwire’s charge dissipated.

The beast was much more thorough in its investigation after this round of arrows. The alert yellow eyes now turned to red. Combat mode. With an angry roar, it loped in a quick circuit around the clearing, and suddenly Aloy felt very exposed. The cover of the trees and the grass around them was not enough. Judging from the size of this beast, it could easily take out the trees and her along with them if it spotted her. Time to find the next vantage point.

After a prolonged search, the sawtooth finally gave up. Its lens switched all the way back to blue. Perfect... She picked out a small boulder on the edge of the clearing and crept towards it, only to be startled by an explosion that sent her sprawling. The sawtooth had set off one of her proximity bombs nearby.

An unearthly cry rose from the cloud of smoke and flame. Could machines feel pain? Could they feel emotion? Was it angry, afraid? Aloy did not know.

She got up and continued to creep toward the boulder on the edge of the clearing, unable to keep an eye on the sawtooth since it was behind her. When she finally reached the boulder, she peered to one side of it to get a good look at her enemy. Sparks shot randomly from the damaged modules on its back. The grey plating over its body was blackened from the bomb it had the misfortune to have stumbled upon. Although damaged, it still had plenty of power left for a battle.

She hoped it would find another of the two proximity bombs left in the field, but neither of them were closeby. The remaining tripwire was to one side of the field. The predatory machine was done playing. It ran now in a long sweeping pattern across the area, determined to track down its assailant, occasionally swiping at the air with its metallic claws for good measure. Its lens, of course, was back to red.

_It’s learning!_ Most machines had very predictable responses. If a watcher reacted a certain way to locating an intruder, it would react the same way every single time, no matter how many times it happened. This tricky sawtooth was proving to be much more advanced.

As the machine made its way across the clearing, she reached down and picked up a small rock, waiting until its back was turned to her. Aloy threw the rock toward the remaining tripwire, landing just past it. To her satisfaction, it took the bait and launched itself toward the source of the disturbance, taking a flying leap and landing with its back foot just barely caught on the electrified wire. She loosed a flurry of arrows and scored several hits on the module exposed on its backside, but the tripwire lost its charge before she could land another hit. She hesitated for the briefest moment, then nocked another arrow and let it fly. It sank deeply into the exposed wiring of the damaged module, sending sparks flying.

The sawtooth spun around with an ominous growl, the red lights of its mechanical eyes shining directly on her where she knelt by the boulder. She had sacrificed her position in order to take a critical shot. Her enemy took off at a run, but stumbled into a limping gallop. Despite the significant damage it had taken, it was determined to take her down.

She took off at a run, holding her bow in one hand and reactivating her focus with the other, scanning the clearing. Where were they? _Damnit, come on!_ The heavy footsteps of her pursuer rattled the ground. She finally found what she was looking for, and made a beeline for one of the two highlighted blips on her holographic display. The machine kept pace, but was slowly catching up with her due to its size. Her legs simply could not carry her as quickly. Her lungs burned from the exertion; her heart was shot through with adrenaline. She listened hard for a gap between the machine’s limping run, and soon enough, she heard it. Just as the rhythm was broken, she coiled all her strength into her legs and sprang forward in a tumbling roll, the bright yellow blip whirling by as she passed it.

The proximity bomb detonated.

As she covered her head, lying facedown on the ground, she heard the familiar sounds of a machine at the end of its life. The whirring gears ceasing to turn, the occasional clicks coming to a halt. The sad sound of its components ceasing to function as the power supply was suddenly snuffed out. The heavy machine collapsed into a limp pile.

She breathed deeply and listened for a few moments, scanning the area with her focus to make sure all the noise hadn’t attracted unwanted guests, then stood, brushed herself off, and made her way to the fallen machine.

Aloy was eager to salvage what she could from a new machine. Rare parts made a hefty profit. She began pulling off flat pieces of armor, ripping out strands of synthetic muscle, and maneuvering its legs to expose the chest. Every machine had a heart. They weren’t inherently useful, but hearts were like trophies for the human victor who had slain the machine, or collector’s items for those too posh to do the hunting themselves. Her hands were deep in the machine’s dry innards when Rost approached her from behind.

“Why did I bring you here?” he asked expectantly.

“Not to ask questions,” she told him, giving him a sharp look over her shoulder before resuming the salvage.

There she went again. She could be so sarcastic at times, it made him wonder how many of his lessons she really took seriously. Her eagerness in taking the sawtooth apart showed her true motivation and focus. Herself. “Aloy...”

“It was a test of wits and strength. Learning to take down a dangerous machine I’ve never encountered before. You always say survival requires perfection. I’d say I achieved that.”

Would she ever learn to look past the surface? He shook his head. “You’ve slain the menace, but missed the point. Follow.” He led her away from the clearing back to the ruined buildings the machine had left in its wake. “Now take a closer look.”

The bodies of several scrappers lay in a pile to one side. Machine oil pooled on the ground beside them. The path was dark with spatters of both oil and blood, with deep grooves from metallic claws. Aloy looked to her mentor. He stood beside her, looking out over the ruined lodge with sorrow on his face.

“What do you see?” he asked her, hopeful.

“Crushed buildings, dead scrappers.”

His face fell as he looked at her. “These were homes, Aloy. People lived here. Slept here. Raised their children here. Died here...” He let that sink in a moment. “I trained you not only to survive, but to hunt at the highest skill level. You may not realize it, but your life in the wilds has given you more preparation than any Nora Brave living and sleeping within the safety of the settlement walls will ever have. With your strength, agility, marksmanship, and instinct, you have the tools you need to easily win the Proving... but there are better challenges for your abilities that serve a higher purpose.”

He looked out at the destruction before them. “This sawtooth ended twelve lives. How many children went to bed without their father tonight? How many tried to fall asleep knowing they will never see their mother again? We don’t even know how many more lives it could have taken tomorrow. You had the power to end the killing. Isn’t that worth something?” He could see the resentment in her soften just a little. She would probably never forgive the Nora for casting her out as an infant, but she was beginning to empathize with them. Just a little bit.

She searched his eyes. Did he really expect her to be able to let go of the animosity that had grown in her heart over the past nineteen years? The fire that had fueled her training for the Proving, to win the boon and the only chance she would ever have to get some real answers about her origins?

“For years, you’ve trained to win the Proving, but only for yourself. As a brave, it will be your duty to fight for your tribe-”

_“My tribe?!”_ Even after all these years raising her, Rost still didn’t understand. “I don’t need them!”

Rost reached out and grasped her by the shoulder. “But the tribe needs you! The strength to stand alone is the strength to make a stand. Our people need all the help they can get. They need a skilled huntress to fight alongside them and protect the weak. The machines grow more violent every day, and newer, more dangerous ones have been appearing in the Sacred Lands and beyond.” He released her.

Aloy’s mouth hung open. This was hearing this news for the first time. Why had he kept it from her?

“It is a frightening time, Aloy. The Nora will follow those who are strong. What will you do with all of your training once you have won the Proving and learned all there is to learn? What will you do with your life? You have an opportunity to serve a purpose greater than yourself. Remember that... after the Proving, and after I am gone.”

He turned to look down at the boar’s head on his left shoulder. His first daughter had killed it on a hunt shortly before she was taken from him. He hoped he would never live to see the day that Aloy returned to All-Mother.

“We are finished here,” he said finally. “Follow.”


	8. Saying Goodbye

Rost led Aloy back to their cabin in the woods. They ate a late dinner of roast rabbit, carrot and potatoes in silence. Aloy picked at her food, struggling to eat, even though the food smelled and tasted delicious. Her appetite had disappeared in the wake of her growing anxiety. In the morning, they would leave for Mother’s Heart. She would approach the gates and go inside for the first time. Her stomach churned. There wasn’t much time left before the Proving. She didn’t care to trade her future away for the answers she needed, but she didn’t have much of a choice. This was the only path to achieve her goal.

Rost was apparently feeling pensive as well. He had barely spoken to her since they had left the area where she had killed the sawtooth. Aloy got the feeling he was unsettled by her contempt for the tribe. He clearly missed being a Brave; perhaps his desire to see her become one was an extension of his own longing. Worse, he had made it clear he thought it was Aloy’s duty to be a contributing member of the tribe. As far as she was concerned, she owed the Nora nothing. The only mercy they had shown her was giving her to Rost for him to raise her. If not for Rost, they would have been sentencing her to death.

She tossed and turned in bed for a long time before finally drifting off to a fitful sleep. Her dreams were full of shouting Nora Braves, shaking their fists, the Matriarchs glaring down their noses to show their disapproval of her. A Brave reached out and pushed her hard, and she awoke with a jerk, the bed sheets a jumbled mess around her. She looked outside; it was still a few hours before the sunrise. Real sleep felt like a distant memory.

Aloy stood and went to the window, staring out at the moonlit darkness. It would be pointless to try and go back to bed. She dressed, went outside, and began building a fire. She focused on its heat and radiance, staring into the flames as they warmed her. There she stayed, getting up only to tend the fire, until the sun finally came up and Rost emerged from the cabin into the chilly morning air.

“How long have you been awake?” he asked.

“A while. Trying not to think about things too much.”

“Are you ready?” Rost asked her.

“Yes and no,” she replied, standing and snuffing out the remains of the fire, and turning to go.

“We should eat some breakfast before we leave.”

“I can’t eat,” she told him with a shrug. “Help yourself, though.”

Rost sighed through his nose. He didn’t think he could eat, either. “Let’s just go.”

Aloy’s bow and quiver of arrows were already slung across her back. She picked up her slingshot and slipped it into her belt, along with a pouch holding a few sling bombs. From what Rost had told her, there was some hunting involved, but the Proving was mostly a race along the brave trails high up on All-Mother Mountain. She didn't need much weaponry. “I’m ready.”

“Then... follow,” Rost said. _For the last time,_ he thought.

They walked through the sturdy wooden gate protecting their home, Rost closing it behind them. Aloy walked beside her mentor. He had put her on this path, and given her the training she needed to achieve her goal. It was so close now.

The day was warming up, with a breeze of cooler air occasionally coming down from the snowy heights of the mountain. The two of them remained alert, keeping an eye out for machines on their way to the biggest settlement in the Embrace.

Aloy’s mind was racing in a constant circle. Going to Mother's Heart for the first time, the Proving, the desperate need to win first place and demand answers to her questions. Why am I an outcast? Who was my mother? Where is she?

Rost came to a sudden stop. Aloy was jolted from her thoughts and looked up at him.

“Aloy. _Breathe._ ”

Was she that easy to read? She stood still, closing her eyes and taking a slow, deep breath, letting it out slowly. Focused all her thought on the sensation of the air going in her nose, down into her lungs, and back out through her nose as she breathed. In and out. In and out. Allowing her other muscles to relax. “I’m alright. It’s just difficult to stop my head from swimming.”

“You have trained beyond the level many Braves ever achieve at your age. Remember that when your confidence wavers. Being raised in the wilds has given you an advantage.”

“I know. Thank you for all the training you’ve given me. I wouldn’t have had a chance at this - or at _life_ \- without you.”

Rost smiled, and Aloy forgot her troubles. Rost never smiled. He was an amazing person, full of strength, wisdom, and resilience, but he was always serious. Aloy had wondered for years why he never allowed himself to truly smile. Was he concerned about his image, or was he really that joyless? It had broken her heart to think he was incapable of even a single happy moment. Was he that depressed about being an outcast?

“Come on. We’re nearly there,” he said, motioning for Aloy to follow him. They continued along the path, crossing a wooden bridge over a small creek that wound its way through the valley. It wasn’t long before the settlement came into sight.

They both paused for a moment, then walked up the incline to the long bridge leading into Mother’s Heart.

They were silent a moment. An abundance of sound wafted over the walls of Mother’s Heart. The strumming of drums, singing, laughing, and a steady murmur of people talking.

“It’s louder than I thought. And bigger. But I guess everything’s bigger up close.”

“You’ve never been this close before. Soon it will all seem familiar. Like home.”

“I don’t know about that...” she said. “Are you sure they’re going to let me in?”

“Yes. I’ve told you. They will honor your right to run in the Proving, and-”

“and any who pass are made braves, and are outcasts no more. I know. But not everyone follows the law like you do, Rost. I’m not sure my bow and spear will be much help in there.”

“It is with bow and spear that you’ll win what you’ve wanted all these years. Answers. Just cross the bridge, and the guards will open the gate for you. Look for High Matriarch Teersa when you get inside. She will help you. Any other concerns?”

“What should I expect inside?

“There will be people celebrating and feasting. More than you’ve ever seen in one place. The rite of passage is one of the tribe’s greatest celebrations. It is the lifeblood of our people, ensuring new generations are fit to survive. It may all be a little overwhelming at first, but tribal life is normally not so chaotic.”

“I see.”

“No other village compares to Mother’s Heart. It is the seat of the High Matriarchs, a center of Nora life, a jewel of the Sacred Land. Give it time, and you will grow fond of it... as I was, back when I was in the tribe.” His eyes were happy, but hid the sadness behind them like a curtain.

“All right. I’m ready to do this. See you back home in a few days?”

Rost was staring off into the distance.

“You will not find me there.”

“I... what?”

“Here.” Rost pulled a carved bone pendant on a blue machine cord from a pouch at his waist, and handed it to Aloy. “Take this, to... remember.” 

Aloy kept her voice as level as she could. “Why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again?” When she raised her eyes from the pendant in her hand, her fear was confirmed. Rost’s face was stricken, but set.

“You should be with the tribe. I will always be an outcast.” 

Her heart went into panicked overdrive.

“But I have that figured out! I’m not going to shun you after the Proving. I just won’t do it. Tribal law has only ever taken things away from me. I’m not about to act like you never raised me. I’ll come to you in secret, and I’ll talk to you, but you won’t have to say a word. It will be my crime, not yours.”

“This... attachment to me will only hold you back. It is my wish that you embrace the tribe. You’ve lived in isolation long enough.”

“I haven’t... not until now,” she said softly. Despite growing up as an outcast, she had never felt truly isolated until now. The one person, the one constant in her life, was actually severing all ties with her.

“For your sake, I must go where you will never find me. This is goodbye.”

Aloy looked at him in the warm peach light of dawn. He stood tall, resolute, his broad shoulders held straight. For all his wisdom, he couldn’t understand the pain he was causing her now.

“I’m glad to have this, then, to remind me of you, and everything you did to help prepare me for this day. But I don’t... I don’t believe it. I know you love the tribe and will follow its laws until the day you die, but you’re actually choosing the law... over me? You realize that is what you’re saying, don’t you?”

The surprise on his face told her he hadn’t thought about it that way before. “That is not my intention at all.”

Aloy’s mind was racing. “Then why are you doing this to me? Listen. You taught me how to track. Wherever you go, I can follow. I’ll be wearing this when I find you.”

 “Aloy, it’s not just about the law. I want you to move on with your life. You don’t need a constant reminder of how you grew up as an outcast. I will always be part of your past, but I can’t be part of your future.”

His words incensed her. There was no getting through to him. He was going to disappear from her life, forever, by choice. “How could you make that decision for me? It’s my life!” She threw the pendant to the ground and stepped angrily toward him. “See? It’s easy throwing away worthless things, isn’t it?” She had never spoken with such venom before. It shocked her.

Rost’s shoulders sagged with the weight of her words. “I’ve disappointed you. I hope you’ll forgive me someday.” He turned to go, but stopped, looking back at Aloy with regret. She was gingerly picking the pendant up from where she had thrown it on the ground.

Aloy spoke gently. If this truly was to be their last conversation, she couldn’t let her final words to him be so harsh. “Please... don’t do this. Don’t make this conversation my last memory of you. I know you want me to seek support from the tribe instead, but there’s no reason I shouldn’t have it from you, too... _father...”_ She had never called him that. They always called each other by name.

It was the most compassionate thing she could have said to him. Something inside Rost broke, but he would not allow his face to show it. “May All-Mother bless you, Aloy... my _daughter._ Goodbye.” Then he turned one last time and left.

She watched him go, feeling overwhelmed with sadness, but glad that she had at least managed to make up for her rash words.

When he was gone, she stared down at the pendant in her hand, memorizing the carved patterns on its face and its three holes. Past, present, future. She had thought her mentor would always be part of her life, even if his role changed once she joined the tribe. Now, in pursuing her future, she was irrevocably cut off from her past. The present? Filled with pain and confusion on top of her anxiety.

_How could he do this to me? Today, of all days. I can’t think about it, not now. I have to keep my mind on the Proving..._

She was too shocked to cry as she lifted the necklace over her head and tucked the pendant into the neckline of her shirt.


	9. Mother's Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hefty chapter ahead!

Aloy examined the bridge as she approached; it was made of thick logs, lashed together with blue machine cording. Classic Nora design. They used natural materials from the land and the machines that roamed them, finding simple ways to combine them and form everything from bridges and gates to tree stands, lookout towers, even their lodges where they slept.

She was already closer than she had ever been to the heart of Nora life, but now she would enter it for the first time - if the guards would let her. Two of them stood at the far end of the bridge, taking a more rigid stance as she approached. One of them spoke. “Turn back, outcast. You have no place here.”

“I will when I win the proving tomorrow. That’s why I’m here; didn’t you know?” She gave them a confident smile, waiting.

Before the guards could protest any further, the gate opened by itself, and an old woman strode through wearing an ornate headdress. Her long grey hair hung in neat, narrow braids. “For goodness’ sake, it’s Aloy!” she said. Her bright eyes were brimming with energy, her warm face wrinkled in a broad smile. “Come with me, child,” she said, beckoning the outcast past the offended guards. “I’ve been waiting years for this! Welcome to Mother’s Heart!”

They passed through the gate together, and Aloy had her first look. The ground gently rose up to a flat area above. There, drummers performed on a small wooden platform in the middle of a clearing. The area below the platform was crowded with people swaying to the beat, some with their eyes closed and hands raised in the air. A strange, earthy smell wafted by; Aloy couldn’t identify it.

“Thank you...Teersa...?” Aloy said, certain from the headdress this was a high matriarch of the tribe, but without knowing for sure which one she was speaking to. Teersa was the only name Rost had given her. She didn’t know the names of the others. Aloy realized the other high matriarchs would probably not have given her such a warm welcome. Rost had mentioned they didn’t agree when it came to Aloy.

“Yes! Forgive me for not introducing myself.” Her eyes glittered with recollection. “It’s been so long since Rost raised you high on the mountain and shouted your name to All-Mother. He trained you well, I’m sure?”

“He taught me everything he knows about hunting and survival. I just wish he had told me more about my past. And _his_ past.” Her heart sank. If he really, truly was saying goodbye outside the gates, then there was little chance she would ever hear why he was outcast, or what his life was like before that. It crushed her to think she would never see him again. No, she would make sure of that. She had told him herself, “ _You taught me how to track. I’ll find you!”_

“I know, child. And I’m sorry, but I must leave you now. So much to do. I must keep the peace between our people and the delegates from Meridian. Tempers are running hot.” She indicated a path up the hill to the right, lined by small wooden buildings. “Follow this path. A friend of yours is eager to see you!”

“A friend? But... I don’t know anyone here.”

“Try telling him that,” Teersa said with a smile. There was that knowing glimmer in her eyes again. “Now go, as I must.” Teersa walked away with a confident resilience against the frailties of her own body. Aloy wondered how old she really was. Then she began to wonder how old most of the braves were, both men and women. How many survived long enough for their strength to fade? For their hair to turn gray? Rost had said there were only a dozen matriarchs, with just three high matriarchs, but Aloy had no experience with the tribe to have any idea how many other men and women reached a similar age. Life in the embrace was relatively safe, but not easy.

She mentally shook herself back to the present. Teersa had mentioned a friend. Whoever this “friend” was, he could wait for the moment. She wanted to have a quick look around the entrance area before moving forward. She couldn’t help wanting to familiarize herself with the area before moving on; it was a habit she was accustomed to in the wilds. It was always a good idea to be familiar with your surroundings; if you had to suddenly make a run for it, or got turned around in a battle, knowing how to get back to familiar territory was vital. Nothing was familiar here. To make it worse, she had the uneasy feeling that everyone here knew who she was, and many of them did not approve of her being here. A haughty glance here and there; a woman who seemed offended that Aloy had accidentally made eye contact with her. It felt like a hostile environment. Aloy’s nerve was on a knife’s edge.

Aloy approached the throng of people around the drummers. The beat was intoxicating. She had heard drums vaguely from a distance before, but this was an entirely different experience. She wove her way through the crowd, getting closer, then closer still, until she was right at the front. Each drumbeat vibrated in her ribcage. A pleasant feeling. Those around her were swaying to the beat, some raising their hands in the air, others making strange movements that kept pace with the rhythm. She closed her eyes for a moment and listened. The sound filled her ears. _BrrrrrrrrUM-pum-pum BUM bum BUM pum-pum. BrrrrrrrrUM-pum-pum BUM bum BUM pum-pum._ She heard the footsteps of braves around her, leather shoes tapping the dry ground in time with the beat. An excited toddler somewhere nearby giggling with glee. The slosh of waterskins and the smell of something yeasty coming from them - not water, but something else. Probably ale. Rost had told her about ale.

She opened her eyes again and found she was swaying from side to side, her hips instinctively matching the beat. Matching the sound with her body had a strange kind of satisfaction to it. Smoke expanded in a cloudy puff right beside her, coming from a man holding something burning. It was clearly the source of the earthy smell she had recognized earlier. He, too, was wrapped up in the rhythm, moving in time with the beat.

The drumming continued, and Aloy flowed along with it and the dancers beside her. It consumed her until she heard and felt nothing else, the feel of fabric on her body strangely distant in her consciousness. The trance was only broken when the rhythm changed and slowly beat itself to silence.

She opened her eyes as though waking from a dream, looking in confusion at her surroundings and longing for the familiar rhythm that had thumped its way into her subconscious. The drummers were taking a well-deserved break, and had disappeared from the platform. She realized she had no idea how long she had been under the spell of the drums, but her stomach began to grumble for food. Time to explore some more. There had to be food nearby; she could smell it.

Several small lodges were scattered around the clearing in a circle, forming a path between them on one side that began snaking its way up the mountainside. She watched the comings and goings of the people, and soon learned what many of the lodges were for. One was an alehouse, another sold hunting equipment and weaponry, another sold medicines. Once she had made a complete circle of the area, she meandered her way up the path. Most of these lodges were roughly the same size, meant to house ten to twenty braves. Each was equipped with beds, an indoor fireplace and kettle for indoor cooking, and an outdoor campfire with a second kettle.

She heard shouting up ahead; a man was sitting on the roof of a lodge, his legs dangling over the edge.

“Get down from there!” his wife hollered. “Why do you do this every year? You’re embarrassing me!”

The man swayed dangerously, nearly losing his balance before catching it and righting himself. “You never let me have any fun. The view up here - HIC - it’s great!”

“Fine, stay up there!” his wife conceded, throwing her arms in the air and marching past Aloy, who stifled a chuckle.

As she continued up the slope, she reached another flat area on the side of the mountain. There was a large wooden platform on the broad side of a lodge hugging the mountain, the platform facing outward. Several long wooden tables took up most of the path in front of it, with people sitting and eating meat off the bone. A large fire was situated on one end, with a couple cooks tending to some meat on a spit. Their rough tent over the cooking area flapped in the breeze coming down the mountain, stoking the flames of the fire. The smell of the meat was rich. Bits of fat dripped from chickens roasting on the spit and sizzled as they hit the coals below.

Her stomach growled again. It had been a while since she had a hearty meal. She approached the cooking tent.

“Hello there! Haven’t seen your face before,” the cook said, wiping sweat from his brow. The heat from the fire must have felt like it was slowly roasting him as well as the meal.

“I’m an outcast, here for the Proving tomorrow,” she told him.

“So you are!” he exclaimed. “Well, you’ll need some fuel for the long climb ahead. What can I get you? We have roast chicken, venison, and a little bit of smoked boar left. The boar sure went quickly.”

“I’ll have some chicken, please. I... eat a lot of venison and boar in the wilds, but we don’t have any chickens.”

The man turned to the roasting chickens, and his companion stopped turning the spit for him to cut off a leg and part of the breast. His companion caught the meat with a thin wooden plate  and handed it to Aloy.

“Careful. I’d let it cool a bit first.”

“Thanks. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing, dear! Everyone in the tribe contributed their hunting spoils to this meal.”

“But I’m not part-”

“Don’t worry about that,” he told her, waving his hands dismissively. “No hungry belly will stay that way during this celebration. It’s tradition. Please. Enjoy it.”

Humbled by his graciousness, Aloy gave him a bow in thanks.

He smiled and poked his thumb to one side. “Get yourself some bread, too.”

Aloy’s gaze fell on another tent with a temporary stone oven on the hillside. A woman was tending it, moving the bread inside with a large wooden paddle. There must have been several loaves inside, as she seemed quite busy with her task. She gave Aloy a polite smile, reached into a basket covered with linen and drew out a roll, placing it on Aloy’s plate.

Aloy thanked the woman and strode over to the nearest longtable with her prize. She sat down and stared at the steam coming off the meat until it began to subside. The fat was beginning to soak into the hand-hewn plate, creating dark grease stains in the swirl of the wood. She picked up the small leg by the bone and took a bite. It was still hot, but not enough to burn her. The meat had a clean taste to it, lacking the gamey flavor of the venison she was used to, and less fatty than boar. The bread was soft and yeasty. The bread she and Rost usually baked in a pot over the fire was much more dense.

Aloy finished her meal and dropped the plate into a dish bin by the lodge, rinsed her hands with some water from a wash barrel, and shook them dry. The rest of the water slowly evaporated as she left the area and continued on up the mountain.

Not far from the feast was a matriarch telling the story of the tribe’s history to a big group of spellbound listeners of all ages. Aloy sat down on a wooden stump, her curiosity at its peak. Rost had told her what the Nora believed, but she had a feeling this matriarch would have a much more complete story to offer.

"Listen carefully now, for you'll have to tell this when I'm gone. In the beginning, all life came from All-Mother. People, machines, and beasts. All were her children. They lived alongside each other in the comfort of her wild embrace. But some grew restless. Though they took of her bounty, they wanted more. These were The Faithless.

The machines had whispered to them, promised to serve them, to make them a new world, better than the one All-Mother provided. A world of metal. They told The Faithless they would do all the work for them. Feed them, shelter them, give them a life of ease, of plenty. And so, The Faithless left with the machines. Only The True Children, the mothers and fathers of The Nora stayed with All-Mother.

At first, the machines did as they had promised. They built cities great and terrible. Monuments to their sins. But they would not serve the faithless for long.

A king rose up among the machines, a machine more powerful than any other, The Metal Devil. and then, The Faithless served him, served the machines. That was not enough for The Metal Devil. He wanted all to serve him, and tried to tempt The True Children away from All-Mother.

They would not go. They gathered on the mountainside to cling to her and prayed, more devoted than ever.

The Metal Devil raged louder than thunder. In his fury he came to confront All-Mother, intending to kill her. She struck him down forever. As you know, for his lifeless body is up there still, frozen in shame and defeat. The machines were driven mad by the death of their king and their minds became as wild as beasts. The Faithless abandoned their cities, forced to wander the world without the care of the machines. Only we remain, The True Children of All-Mother. We built all this with the hands that she gave us.

Machines are to be hunted. Metal to be used for scrap, for craft, but never to be adored. Deep down they remain loyal to the Metal Devil, and with every passing year their aggression against us grows as though their master has reawakened.

We must stay true to All-Mother’s laws, resolute in our prayers, mustn’t we? For the goddess will protect us so long as we live within her Embrace, and follow in her footsteps. Go, filled with All-Mother’s blessing, and make her proud!”

The children around her began chattering with excitement. For many of them, it was their first time hearing this story. Rost hadn’t left anything major out. He just hadn’t delivered it with the same air of wonder and significance. Despite his devout belief in the Nora ways, he wasn’t particularly gifted in storytelling.

Aloy’s eyes were drawn up the mountain to the giant metal arcs high above, the arms of a gigantic metal beast. The Metal Devil. Were there others like it somewhere? She shuddered to think of the damage a machine that size could do.

Unconsciously, she had started walking up the mountain again, in awe of the Metal Devil, wondering how it had truly been brought down in the first place. Something slowly drew her attention as she was lost in the past. A voice was calling her name.

“Aloy! Aloy!”

People were walking up and down the mountain path around her; she looked ahead and saw a stationary face looking back at her. He waved energetically when she spotted him.

At first, she didn’t recognize him. It was his face paint that jogged her memory. A strange mark over his eyebrow like a half-coiled snake, a triangle, and a vertical line on the outside of his eye leading down to a zigzag smudge below it.

“...Teb?” 

His eager face broke into a genuine smile. She felt herself smiling as well. It was the young hunter she had saved years ago when he fell from a brave trail into a field of machines. As Aloy got closer to him,  her heart swelled - his life could have ended that day. He was alive because of her. She almost wanted to hug him, but restrained herself.

“Aloy, it’s you! I heard you would be coming to run in the Proving tomorrow.”

“The rumors are true,” she confirmed. “It’s good to see you, Teb!”

“The pleasure is mine,” he said humbly. “I never really got to thank you for saving my life.” He turned and drew something from a hide-covered wooden crate. When he turned back around, he held a folded tribal garment across his forearms, made from a variety of hides, machine cording and plates. The natural color of deer hide prevailed, with vivid red and blue accents. “Please accept this. I didn’t turn out to be a very good hunter, but I think I make a pretty good stitcher. It should provide you with more protection than what you’re wearing.” He spoke with respect and gratefulness.

Aloy glanced down at her patchy homemade garment. She and Rost were no stitchers. The seams were irregular, the fit adequate but not terribly flattering. It served its purpose, but not very well. She reached out and accepted the clothing, bowing her head to show her appreciation.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” She ran her fingers over the cording and the strong yet decorative seams. “You really have some talent. The tribe is lucky to have you.” She looked up with a smile. “I can’t wait to put this on! Thank you!” 

“You’re welcome! Do you know where everything is?”

“Not really. I got my bearings for the areas down by the entrance, and was just exploring as I head up the path here.”

“I see. I’d be happy to show you to the lodge where you’ll be sleeping tonight. It’s just up ahead. You can change there, too, if you want,” he offered.

“Perfect!” They strode off together up the path.

“So. What do you think of Mother’s Heart so far?” Teb asked.

“It’s... different,” she said. “I’ve never been around so many people at once before. It’s loud, but the energy here is so vibrant. The celebration is almost - intoxicating,” she said with a wary glance at a brave staggering down the mountain past them, obviously drunk.

“That will take some getting used to, but you’ll feel right at home in no time,” he promised.

“I’m not so sure about that, Teb. You’ve been kind to me, but you should see all the dirty looks I’ve been getting. It’s clear that a lot of people don’t think I belong here. I don’t expect finishing the Proving will suddenly make them change their minds. You don’t know what it feels like to be shunned as an outcast.”

“You’re right, of course,” he said. “You can always come find me if you need to vent. I’ll be happy to listen.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Thank you.”

“Well, here it is,” he said, gesturing to a wooden lodge to the right of the path. A guard standing at the door caught sight of Aloy and his expression tightened into a glare. Teb raised a hand to his mouth and whispered to Aloy, “I see what you mean...”

Aloy couldn’t help herself and laughed out loud. It was nice to have a friend.

“Resh, this is Aloy. She’ll be running in the Proving tomorrow,” Teb told the guard.

“I know who she is,” he growled back.

Aloy gave Teb a private look, stretching the corners of her mouth down in an expression of abhorred repugnance, her eyes wide. He stifled a laugh as she approached the stairs.

“I’m going to change. I’ll catch up with you later. Thanks again, Teb!” she called, disappearing into the doorway.

There was no one else in the lodge at the moment. Resh closed the door behind her with an irritable slam. She looked around at the wooden bunk beds and the large fireplace at the head of the room. There was no place for privacy in here. If she started changing, someone could barge in on her. She walked up to a bed that appeared to be unclaimed and grabbed the blanket on top, tucking it into the bunk above it to create a curtain. She removed her bow and quiver, then quickly removed her tattered outcast garment and slipped on the new one Teb had sewn for her. It was a near-perfect fit, sturdy and flexible in all the right places, and comfortable. She lifted one of the front panels meant to protect her thighs and examined its smooth stitching. The blue and red accents along the edges were vibrant. Teb must have dyed the thread with something to get those colors.

As she was reaching up and removing the blanket curtain to remake the bed, the door opened and a young woman came in carrying a quiver of arrows.

“Hi there! Aloy, is it?”

“Does everyone here know my name?” Aloy asked sheepishly.

“Yeah, pretty much,” the girl said with a shrug. “You’re the first outcast to run in the Proving. It’s kind of a big deal. I’m Vala. Nice to meet you.”

“Vala,” Aloy said, repeating the name aloud to help cement it to memory. “So what’s the deal? Everyone parties all evening, and then we rise early to head up the mountain for the trial?”

“Yes, but tonight is the Blessing.”

Aloy stared at her blankly, too embarrassed to admit her ignorance.

“It’s a ritual honoring our mothers and blessing our journey to become full-fledged Nora braves. You’ll light a paper lantern made by your mother, and-” she halted, seeing a pained expression on Aloy’s face. “Oh no. I’m sorry. I-”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I guess I won’t be participating.” It was common knowledge to the Nora that Aloy had no mother. Many assumed it had something to do with the reason she was outcast. The sad part was Aloy knew just as much as everyone else, except the matriarchs. She would get answers from them soon enough.

“It’s a beautiful ceremony,” Vala said. “It will be just after nightfall when the sun has fully set, if you want to go. It’s between the feasting tables and the area below that with the drummers, on a path with a short bridge over the stream. I won’t blame you if you don’t want to go, though, after what you’ve been through. I’m sorry you have been living as an outcast all this time. It’s not right. You did nothing wrong.”

Aloy offered her a half-hearted smile, not sure what to say, but grateful for the show of support.

Vala seemed to suddenly remember her reason for coming here, and walked over to the bed next to Aloy’s and set her quiver down. “I bought these from Karst. He makes better arrows than I do. Might as well have the best gear for the Proving. You should go see him for any last-minute supplies if you need anything.”

“I’m good, but thank you.”

“Want to go watch the Carja speech? I saw the Matriarchs escorting their envoy just now, on my way in here. It should be fun! The fruit will be flying.”

“Sure. I could use some entertainment,” Aloy said with a smile, reaching for her bow.

“You can leave that here,” Vala told her. “Even with the Carja in town, we have plenty of sober guards ready to handle things if it should get nasty.”

“You’re probably right, but I never go anywhere without this bow,” Aloy said, “unless you think it would be a problem for me to be carrying it.”

“Nobody is going to think twice about it. Take it if it makes you feel better.”

Aloy shouldered her quiver and her bow.

“Nice outfit,” Vala complimented, looking at her clothes. “You get that from Teb?”

“I did! This is my first time wearing it. He really has some skill with a needle; this is definitely the nicest thing I have ever worn.”

“He’s an amazing stitcher. The Embrace hasn’t seen one like him in ten years, from what the Matriarchs say. Most of them who used to sew can’t see well enough to do it anymore. Even then, he’s something special. His stitches are strong and straight, but he also has a good eye for mixing fabrics and materials. Your garb is no exception. Anyway, let’s go.” Vala led the way out the lodge door, down the short stairs and up the mountain. Aloy felt a hostile gaze at her back. Resh, no doubt.

The pitch of the mountain rose steeply from the lodge to a flat space above. This was the second-largest gathering spot in Mother’s Heart, from what Aloy had seen. A sizable gathering of Nora stood in front of a platform to the left, where Teersa was introducing a priest from Meridian.

Vala grabbed Aloy’s sleeve and urged her forward. “Come on! We don’t want to miss this!”

The priest began to speak just as they reached the outer edge of the crowd. He spoke with pomp and flourish, opening a scroll to read from it, but the jeers and shouts were so loud that neither Aloy nor Vala could make heads or tails of what he was saying. Moments into his recitation, a steady hail of tomatoes went soaring overhead from the crowd toward the priest. Aloy was shocked by the wastefulness of it.

The priest was stunned into silence and began to step back in retreat. A guard from the Carja envoy standing behind him stepped up to address the angry crowd.

“Nora! Nora faithful!” He ducked just in time to avoid a well-aimed tomato that would have smacked him in the face. “Please. _Hold your fruit!”_ he commanded. The crowd quieted down, and the tomatoes trickled to a stop. “I know you’re angry with the Carja. You have every right to be! But I’m Oseram.” There was a surprised murmur in the crowd. “The Carja raided and killed my people just like they did to yours. My own sister was taken! So why am I here today, defending them?

The thirteenth Sun-King, Jiran, was mad. Jiran thought humanity was to blame for the machines’ growing anger, and claimed that sacrifices would appease the Sun. They changed nothing, but he continued to send his army out to pillage and lay waste to the countryside under the misguided justification of divine will. Someone had to put an end to it. Do you know who? The _fourteenth_ Sun-King, Avad. Jiran’s own flesh and blood. Avad killed his own father because _someone_ had to put an end to his atrocities.

I was there the day the mad king fell. My sister and I led the Oseram in taking the city of Meridian for Avad. In return, he made us his trusted Vanguard. I’m proud to protect him and the city of Meridian, once again open for people from every tribe to enjoy. Avad has none of his father’s penchant for violence. The message this poor priest means to read to you is an apology, straight from the lips of Sun-King Avad. Please. Won’t you lend him your ears?”

Aloy and Vala exchanged an impressed glance. The priest retook the stage and began reading.

“An enunciation of truth-”

Despite the clarity of the priest’s voice and the quietness of the crowd, Aloy no longer heard them. Her entire attention was directed at a thick-chested man standing on the far side of the crowd, and the the familiar triangular-shaped relic on his temple. She had been surveying the crowd when she spotted it. She made her way to the back of the crowd without taking her eyes off him, memorizing his face as she drew near.

“Excuse me - where did you get that relic on your face?” she asked him abruptly. He turned, startled.

“Dug it up in a ruin. I see you have one too. How did you - ow!” He reached for his temple as though in pain.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Just... malfunctioned, that’s all. So... how did you come by one of these, again? I thought the Nora shunned the ruins of the metal world.”

“They do, but I grew up outcast, so I don’t follow their rules,” she said, eying him. “Are you sure it malfunctioned? Mine has... never done that.”

“Quite sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got business to-” His sentence was cut short by the Oseram guard from the platform who jumped down next to them, landing with the muted metal clunk of his heavy armor.

“Making friends with the locals, now, Olin?” he said with a friendly smile, looking from one of them to the other.

“Yes, but I really must be going -” Olin protested nervously, pushing through the crowd and disappearing.

Aloy watched him go, her expression full of confusion. There went the only other person she had ever seen with a focus like hers, and he had not only been unwilling to talk about it, he had been defensive and cagey. The initial excitement of finding someone with a working relic like hers had quickly been snuffed out, replaced with disappointment. She would have to track him down and see what else he could tell her. For now, she turned to the Oseram who was looking at her with curiosity.

“His name is Olin?” Aloy asked. “He is the first person I’ve seen with a relic like mine,” she said, pointing to her focus.

“Yep, that’s Olin,” the Oseram replied. “He spends most of his time exploring the ruins of the Old Ones, bringing back whatever relics he can find to use or sell. Keeps that one stuck to his face. It looks a lot better on you, though.”

“Do you know where exactly he got it?”

The vanguard shook his head. “I don’t know which ruin he was in when he found it. Somewhere in the desert outside Meridian. He takes it everywhere with him, though.”

“So do I. It’s kind of... part of me now. I found mine as a child, not too far from here. It was kind of an accident. So who is Olin?”

There was a strange gleam in her companion’s light blue eyes. He rubbed his chin, perplexed. “Didn’t realize he was so interesting... There’s not much to tell, really. He’s a delver, as I said. Has a keen eye for things. Just the type of person you’d want on an expedition. Brought him along to the Nora Sacred Land as a scout.” He leaned forward suddenly, a hand extended. “I’m sorry - my name is Erend. And you are...?”

“Aloy,” she told him, looking at his outstretched hand. This wasn’t a greeting tradition she was familiar with. She held her hand out as well, uncertain what was expected of her.

He smiled, grasping her hand and bending his arm at the elbow. “Aloy. You’ve never met an Oseram before, have you? This is a handshake. We use it to greet new friends, or business partners.”

“I see,” she said. “Nice to meet you, Erend.” They smiled at each other awkwardly for a moment, still shaking hands.

Erend disguised his laugh as a cough. “We... ah... usually let go after a second,” he told her. She released her grip obligingly. “So this is Mother’s Heart?”

“It is.”

“I have to tell you, this is my first trip to this part of the world. The Sacred Lands really are beautiful. The lush foliage, rolling mountains, and the seas of waving grass... Just gorgeous. Mother’s Heart is really... quaint. Maybe you wouldn’t mind showing me around?”

“I would if I knew my way around,” she said with a shrug, her red hair shining as it moved in the sunlight. “This is my first time inside the settlement gate. I grew up as an outcast.”

“Oh,” he said, his expression changed to one of regret. “I’m sorry. I’d heard the Nora cast people out like that. Seems cruel to me. So why did they let you in Mother’s Heart today if they never have before?”

“The Proving. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It’s a tradition for all young Nora to become adult members of the tribe, but the Matriarchs also give young outcasts a chance to complete the trial. It’s a test of athleticism, skill, and speed, running along the brave trails up on the mountain above us, and completing hunting challenges along the way. If you reach the end, you’re a full-fledged Nora brave and part of the tribe, whether you were an outcast or not.”

Erend raised a black eyebrow. “It’s hard to imagine living as an outcast, especially with the derangement of the machines.”

“The what?”

“You haven’t heard about the derangement? How the machines are getting nastier?”

“No - not until last night.” When Rost had mentioned the growing problem. “Members of the tribe aren’t allowed to talk to outcasts. A few of them ignore the rule and do it anyway, but I can count the number of people who have ever spoken to me on one hand, including you.” Rost, Teersa, Teb, Vala, Erend. The last two only within the past few hours.

Erend was gaining a deeper understanding of this young woman’s sheltered life by the minute. The way the Nora had treated her was cruelly unfair. “I see. Well, the machines have been growing more aggressive and dangerous. Not just around Meridian, or around here, but everywhere. To make matters worse, every couple of years, a brand new type of machine starts appearing. Bigger, stronger, deadlier. The sawtooth is the worst one I’ve seen in the Sacred Lands. You should see some of the monsters roaming the deserts and jungles around Meridian.”

“Does anyone know what is causing it?”

“No. I wish we knew. Machines that will usually startle and run will now turn and fight. The Vanguard has enough to worry about without the nasty surprise of a brand new machine every now and then that we have no idea how to battle. At least we have a capable captain - my sister Ersa. She has this amazing sense of direction; she always knows what to do. You’d like her; she’s a strong woman, a skilled fighter, and can drink some of the men under the table. I can introduce you if you ever come to Meridian.”

Aloy sighed and shook her head. “The Nora are forbidden to leave the Sacred Lands.”

“Something tells me you’re not a fan of that policy.”

“It seems like... willful ignorance of the rest of the world. Did you know Nora are also forbidden from the ruins of the metal world?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted.

“As a kid, I fell down into a ruin once by accident. It’s where I found this relic,” she said, pointing to the focus on her temple. “Sometimes I sneak away from home to go delving. This device... _shows_ me things about my surroundings. I’ve seen some interesting things from the Old Ones, and would love to see some more. But if I join the tribe, there will be more people to keep an eye on me. It will be harder to sneak away. And if I’m caught, they could cast me out all over again.”

Erend raised his chin to indicate his surprise. “They would do that just for trespassing?”

“They would.”

Erend looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear what he was about to say. He leaned in to whisper in Aloy’s ear. “Then why join the tribe at all?” He straightened up and looked at her face to gauge her reaction. One red eyebrow was raised. She was listening. “The free people of Meridian come from all over the land. Avad welcomes everyone. You would be welcome, too.”

Aloy’s fingers idly found the fringe of her new garment, toying with it as she considered Erend’s words. She turned to look out over the crowd. Every Nora with their face paint, their mark of belonging, their family sign. Everyone except Aloy. Even the other outcasts painted the mark of their family on their faces daily. Rost hadn’t allowed her to wear his mark.

She would never forget the day as a young girl when she had found his face paint. Rost had caught her copying his mark onto her own face. She hadn’t understood his anger then, and she didn’t understand it now. Some part of him wanted to distance himself from her, but why? Because she wasn’t truly his daughter? It was a thorn in her heart that had always made her feel even more isolated. Alone. Did she really want to join the Nora without her own face paint? It would always be something that set her apart from them. She could make her own design, perhaps, but everyone would know that and see her as different. The other marks had been carried down through many generations.

She also had a strong dislike for the rules of the Matriarchs. Don’t travel outside the Sacred Lands. The ruins of the metal world are forbidden. Don’t talk to members of the tribe as an outcast. Their rules were foolish. Ignorant. Harmful. She had a strong feeling that her people should be interested in learning about the history of their world instead of shunning it. No matter how she felt about joining the tribe, she had to take the only chance she had to find out about her mother, and where she really came from. Winning the Proving was the only way.

Erend watched Aloy considering it. “Meridian would be a whole new world for you. I’d be glad to guide you there. Make introductions, show you around. You’d be free to do as you like.”

The depth of pain in her eyes as she looked at him then grasped his heart. As much as she wanted to go to Meridian, she was bound by something. He wasn’t sure what.

“Look... I hope I’m not making assumptions, but this doesn’t seem like the place for you. You’re sharper than these folks, and, well... I mean... look at you,” he said, gesturing toward her.

She gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

Did she have any idea how beautiful she was? She was a blossom among weeds. Her innocence brought a tender smile to his face. “All I’m saying is... I think you would be very happy in Meridian.” He studied her face. Inquisitive, searching. “Let me know if you change your mind.” He looked up then at the darkening sky. “Sun’s almost gone. I think that Blessing thing is supposed to start soon. I’m going to head down the mountain. Maybe we can chat more later.” He gave her a smile, then walked away through the crowd and down the path leading to the ceremonial site.

She watched him go, her heart gripped with uncertainty.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> **If you want to skip ahead to some Aloy/Erend interaction, visit this story on FF.net! The last two chapters posted there cover Aloy's arrival in Meridian.
> 
> I also have a Tumblr blog where I post screenshots from my game, and reblog photos of Aloy and Erend.  
> www.tumblr.com/blog/dreamofzen


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